


Fallen Grace and Broken Wings

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, megatron/ofc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:23:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was born two a pair of Autobot medics. StarRacer was my name. That was until Flotilla was torn apart and my mother killed. And I just sat back, marveling at the beauty of death.<br/>I thought I was going to die, and I excepted it. Yet I didn’t. A Seeker’s gun was ordered down by my savior and later mentor, Soundwave.<br/>I once asked him why he saved me. I was told he sensed a ‘darkness within my spark.’ That darkness caught the optic of the most powerful Decepticon alive.<br/>I am a warrior.<br/>I am the Queen of the Decepticons.<br/>I am the Sparkmate of Lord Megatron.<br/>I am DeathStrike.</p><p>(probably won't update this one that often, sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen Grace and Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. Vun = about 3 feet, Var (cybertronian year)= 8.4 earth years, Joor= 3 minutes, servo = hands, pedes = feet, chassis = chest.  
> I don't own Transformers. It's just my OCs to cuddle with. ^_^ Flames will be used for s'mores.

I was born into this world a tiny thing. Barley a single vun long. Yet my parents adored me. At least, I believe they did. I was only two vars old.

It was odd. I could hardly remember my parents, but I could remember that day with pure clarity.

I was with my mother in Flotilla when it happened. The day started out pleasant. I was playing with younglings my age while my femme creator stood a ways away talking with other mothers. Then there was an explosion. Then another. And another.

Seekers flew through the sky, gunfire raining down on us like pit on earth. All around me ‘bots ran, frantically trying to get themselves and the sparklings to cover.

I knew it would do them no good. Already I had a tactician’s processor. The Seekers would first target the streets. Try to get everyone into cover. Then they would use heavier artillery to bomb said structures. No one would survive.

I could not find my mother. She had been swept away in the crowd it seemed.

So I got to my rather shaky pedes and walked over to a tall metal pillar. And I sat and waited. It was large enough to protect me from most flying derbies and hide me from the seekers. It was a point that had a 23% chance of being targeted.

And so I sat. Slowly the small adrenaline rush in my sparkling body wore away. It left a hollow feeling in my spark. The feeling surprised and sickened me.

Tears began to form in my optics and quite sobs broke through my vocals. I couldn’t help it, my tiny body was going into shock.

I tried to silence my cries in case a decepticon heard me. As the dust settled and explosions ceased I started to think it had worked.

I was wrong.

I heard the click of a blaster ready to fire and I froze. Slowly I turned to look at my soon to be killer. It was a Seeker. He was tall with blue and red paint.

The mech vented. “You know, I really hate doing this. Sparklings shouldn’t die. But it’s either you or me, and no offense, but I choose me.”

I jut blinked at the mech. “What’s you name?” I asked after a while.

The Seeker seemed surprised at my question. At his hesitation I continued. “I would like to know the name of ‘bot to offline me."

“Thundercracker.” He finally said. “You’re taking this very well. How old are you?”

“Two vars.”

Thundercracker sighed again. “Primus. I’m sorry kid, I really am.”

And he shot.

I scrunched my optics closed and awaited the Well, but death never came. I opened my optics cautiously. The blast had hit right next to me on the ground. I then looked at Thundercracker. _Why had he missed?_

I didn’t know what to expect, but I certainly didn’t expect to see another mech holding Thundercracker’s arm so it pointed down and away from me.

I blinked at this new mech. He was tall, but not as tall as the Seeker. His body was mostly silver with black accents. He wore a visor over his optics and his mouth was lined in sharp mandible-like teeth. Tall audios crested over his helm in elegant arcs.

This mech had a certain... class about him.

“You saved me. Why?” I questioned, getting straight to the point.

“Answer: you could prove useful.” The mech answered in monotone.

“How would I be useful?”

“Uses: potential to be a strong Decepticon.”

I hummed in thought. “But I’m an autobot.” I answered.

“Negative.” Said the mech. “Your creators are Autobots. You are undecided.”

I chuckled. “You have me there.”

“What is the designation of your creators?”

I laughed sarcastically. “Really? I got the impression you were ‘all-knowing.” I snarked.

“Negative: I am not ‘all-knowing’." He paused. "...Though, I am close.”

I rose an optic ridge but answered his question. “My femme creator is Autobot medic Moonracer and my mech creator is Autobot CMO Ratchet.”

Thundercracker looked at me with wide optics. “You’re who’s kid?!” He asked in disbelief.

“I just told you, glitch-head.”

Thundercracker’s face darkened but remained quite.

I turned to the other mech. “What’s your name?”

“Designation: Soundwave.”

“Ah, the communications officer. I’ve been told you’re quite the hacker.” I smirked. “Not as good as Jazz.”

It almost looked like Soundwave scowled, but it could have been my optics playing tricks on me.

“Order: you will come with me.”

I looked at him. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Consequence: you will be terminated.”

I vented. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Negative.”

I slowly got to my pedes, my frame stiff from sitting so long. The two mechs turned and headed deeper into the city, myself following close behind.

The trek through the destroyed city made my tanks churn. There was so much death. Yet the death excited me. And that was frightening.

I passed by the greying corpses of the sparklings I had just a few joors ago been playing with.

Then we walked by the body of a light green femme.

“Mummy.” I whispered and ran to her. I knelt down next to her limp form, tears once more filling my optics. Why was I so emotional? Oh yah, I was a stressed sparkling. This was my body’s natural response. Frag.

“Question: what are you doing?” Asked Soundwave once he realized I was not longer following.

“It’s my femme creator. She’s dead.” I whispered just loud enough for the mechs to hear me.

“Order: we must return to base. You will follow.”

I never looked away from my mother as I answered. “Just a moment.” I brushed a servo against her cheek, energon tears streaking down my cheeks and onto my mother’s faceplate. “I’m sorry mummy. For your death, and for what I’m going to become.” More tears fell. “Please forgive me.” And with that, I stood.

I turned my back from my mother as well as the world I knew. I turned my back from the Autobots and any redemption I could ever possibly have.

If I had stayed from just a moment longer, if I had just pressed my servo to my mother’s chassis, I would have felt the weakly pulsing spark. But I didn’t. Instead I left, only for my father arrived just in time for his mate to die in his arms...

~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
